Helljumper425

[@SykoWolf - Yeah, that's kinda what I just said, ****Knuckles. Nice job being a patronizing *******.] 15:17 UNSC Infinity Bridge Corridor Lance Corporal Ashley Soto and Corporal Arnold Fuchs marched in tandem toward the bridge, their armored boots making heavy thuds against the deckplates. Personnel parted their paths, though they took little notice of this, keeping their eyes forward and their strong postures locked. They had their weapons hung at their sides, and a hard copy of an authenticated, authorized transfer notice in the opposite hand. Normally, by tradition, they would have taken their time left aboard the ship to get one last look around. But they ignored it--the sights, the sounds, the crew. They had enough of it--enough of Requiem. As soon as they entered the bridge, Ashley took point in approaching Captain Delreuse. She stopped a few good feet behind him, clacking her heels together loud enough to grab his attention. Without another word, she handed him the sheet of paper. Fuchs was next in line. "It's a Note of Authorized Transfer by the Office of Naval Intelligence," Ashley explained, saving the Captain the time needed to look at the document. "We're leaving Hazard Squad and the Infinity."

[i thought I already cleared the comm array in my last post, but whatever. Infinity's a massive ship, I'm sure it'd need more than one, at least as a failsafe or redundancy.] Soto tapped her helmet's chin roughly to trigger the comm. "Bauer, this is Hazard 1-3, we just secured the first comm array. The combat engies need a little security We can't move." Fuchs cut her off, snapping his fingers loudly from the open cockpit of the Mantis as he was standing atop the vehicle's robust body. Taking time to stretch limbs was important after boarding a mobile sardine can. As the Lance Corporal glanced up at the man, seeing him helmetless for the first time, he didn't strike her as the soldiering type. Sure, his blonde hair had been put to a close shave and he had a mildly pissed-off grunt look weighing his face, but he hardly looked fitting of an ODST role. But even so, he gestured a thumb at himself, then pointed down at the Mantis he stood upon. Ashley looked to the side in slight doubt before keying her comm again. "Belay my last, Mantis support en route. Out." She shrugged at the Corporal. "Your show, man." With that, he domed his helmet once more, grabbed the edge of the hatch and swung himself back inside. "Rock and roll."

No more than five minutes after the call from bridge, the combat engineer team had establshed contact with the ODST platoon en route to the transmitter array with the escort of Fuchs and his overlord demeanor, otherwise known as the Mantis. It was a phenominal piece of machinery, no doubt. While a bit limited in its function as an assault vehicle, its practicality knew no bounds. It took some work clearing the zone, but it would've taken more had they lacked the exosuit. Soto had been on foot with the engineers, providing cover despite the fact that every engie knew how to wield a gun as well as any other Marine. The reason was in her own fault of not having her own incinerator. Most of the flame thrower-wielding Helljumpers were some of the scariest mother****ers she had seen in a few days, and not in the stereotypical sense with decals--despite the few that actually had a shark or dragon mouth painted on their helms. The sight of a man wielding fire was a sight in itself, a terrible one at that, and that fact that none of them seemed to speak during the conflict was unnerving. After a long two minuts of weapons fire and napalm spewing hell, the area was finally clear. At Soto's word, the engineers moved in, hopping over the charred, black husks of infected. It seemed like the turret system had already come online by the time they arrived, however, a disappointing revelation expressed by the engineer's Lieutenant with a frustrated shrug. Soto's weapon fell to her side as she slacked her shoulders. "Well that was f***ing pointless." "Not quite," Fuchs' voice rang from the Mantis' speakers. "We just mopped up an entire nest--that kinda speaks volume."

After their scuffle in the bridge corridor, Ashley and Fuchs had restocked on ammo, courtesy of Ty. They had geared for counter-infection tactics, what with incendiary equipment, but upon direction they headed for the vehicle bay. Once they arrived, they simply stood before one of the many repurposed Mantis assault mechs at their disposal. There were a few Marine engineers standing about as a security detail, though they were mostly exchanging awkward stares with the two ODSTs as they stood in mild awe. "You know how to pilot one of those things?" Ashley finally asked. "Nope...you?" "Uhn uh..." The Corporal shrugged then started for the hulking machine. "First time for everything." At this, a technician was stone-faced, clearly biting his own tongue in restraint. "Its internal systems are automatic. As soon as it recognizes your IFF, it'll boot up on its own. From there, it's just like playing a game." The word "game" hung in Fuchs' mind as he climbed his way into the pilot seat. "Just like a game," he repeated, sliding himself into the seat. The canopy closed with a low clunk and before he knew it, the feeling of weightlessness overcame him for a moment. The display booted up before him, and from the frontal sensors of the assault mech, he could see the view of the bay. Ashley was still standing front and center with a Marine tech beside her. "Systems check?" Fuchs said over the vehicle's speaker. "No need," said the technician. "If its systems weren't working at one hundred percent, you wouldn't be able to stand the mech upright. Try taking a step forward." "No time for that. Besides, I'm a MechWarrior fan. I know what to do." Ashley shook her head before hitting her commpad. "Hazard 1-3 and 1-4 are just about set. Requesting direction, over."

Soto unleashed a full spray of fire until her BR55 made an ominous click. "Sh--!" she cursed, dropping the weapon the weapon next to her knee and taking up the M7 bullet hose. Fuchs, for some reason, reloaded the rifle for her as she continued to fire, slapping in a fresh mag before patting her on the shoulder. "Charged and locked!" "I owe you!" she shouted, swapping her now-empty M7 for the BR55 again. The Corporal was turning out to be a God damn blessing with the way he worked in the field. She only hoped he could manage his requisitioned shotgun as good as his Battle Rifle should the enemy turn this into a close range fight.

[Just for future reference, there is a difference between Corporal and Lance Corporal. So being Corporal, Fuchs outranks Soto, and by tradition a Lance Corporal is referred to as "Lance Corporal" to avoid confusion, much like how a Sergeant is referred to as such, rather than "sir" to give the illusion that he/she is an officer.] Fuchs did a double-take on Ty's hand as he set down an M9 HE-DP grenade, along with a, "Merry Christmas." The Corporal laughed, sweeping it up. "Ha-ha! Deez nuts! That's what I'm talkin' about, sarge." While he didn't prime it immediately, he did keep it on standby as the fire kept up. Soto replied to Ty's orders with a nod. "Roger that--fall back line at ten meters."

The first flood mutation emerged through the strobing hues of red-orange emergency lighting, and from that point onward, all banter around Soto just became white noise. From what she could tell, it was a human mutation, or combat form as bio-techs like to call them. In the end it was just a target for her. She had seen the declassified vids on how the UNSC and Covenant tended to counter these infections in live combat. Center mass, she remembered, typically a bulging, tendril-spouting mass that all but rose above the surface. That was the infection form, the killshot. Rather easy to pull off when comparing it to a headshot. She gave the staggering corpse a pair of quick shots. The armor piercing rounds punched through the mottled tissue, passing to the other side where they were granted with a guttural yelp, a pain response from the next one in line. Fuchs gave that one a burst to the chest as well, the rapid fire of his BR85 tearing an ugly void into its chest cavity, its ribcage bursting from the high velocity impact, spewing chunks of rotten flesh and viscera in the air like confetti, exposing what remained of the host's vital organs. "Next," he muttered, setting a stack of spare magazines on his cover for easier access.

Through gritted teeth, Ashley hissed another four-letter-word as the sounds of the infected drew nearer. With a few crates and consoles as makeshift defensive barricades, she and Fuchs had managed to set up a firing line covering the main corridor leading to the bridge. "Will we ever have a normal f***ed up day without these things around?" Fuchs laughed as he rested his BR85 against his shoulder. "Wishful thinking, hon."

"I know," she concurred, glancing back at the possibly unconscious trooper. Better to let him rest either way. "We don't have enough people to secure the engine room and hold the bridge at the same time. F*** we're better off just garrisoning this bridge for now." [screw your rules, moderators. You're worse than the Bioware fans who can't understand artistic integrity.]

Ashley stood up, leaving Ty with Fuchs for the time being as she folloewd Bauer. "I don't know," she admitted. "Suddenly I'm acting team leader. Our only objective that I knew of was to take the armory and now here we are on the bridge." She shrugged. "I guess I could go out there in the vacuum with you, or stay here and act as bridge defense. S*** I don't know. This is all kinds of f***ed up."

"Ah--I figured you were a colony kid when you said 'farm.' Kinda how most of our lives went anyway." She took a moment to pour a fresh bit of saline over the dressings, keeping them moist. "I grew up on Chi Rho myself. My dad was an officer, so when I told him I was enlisting he walked me through it, recommended me for the ODSTs after I finally convinced him it was what I wanted." Ashley sat back on her heels, glancing at Fuchs as he covered the near-desolate corridors, then turned her attention back to Ty. "That's about all I can do, but you're stable now. All we have to do is...wait for a medic to come along."

I vote for SuperIntendent

Ashley urged Ty to sit down, leaning his back to the wall. "Fuchs, get over here. I need your ruck," she said on comms. She could've just shouted but she didn't want to agitate the Sergeant's stress level and risk a more rapid decline. During the wait, Ashley placed gauze and occlusive dressings over the entry points made by the sword. Thankfully the blades were made of some form of raw energy, as hard as it was to be thankful for something so terrifying. It typically cauterized the wounds, but this case was going to take some time. Just then, Fuchs arrived, taking his pack off. He caught on as Ashley gestured to Ty's feet, placing the pack underneath to elevate his legs in a Trendelenburg position, restricting some blood flow to his legs to prevent shock. "What is it with swords anyway? What kinda Barbarian Bulls--- is that? Not content destroying planets? you gotta stab people too?" Soto snickered beneath her helmet, though kept her eyes on her work, inspecting Ty's torso for any other wounds, then met him eye to eye, gently lifting his brows with her thumbs to check his pupils. At least he was doing the job of keeping the situation light. It was still on her to keep him talking, however. "'Farm,' huh? Were you a colony kid?"

[Maybe I misread, since you said that his helmet was just grazed by the blade. "Ty walked over and lifted his helmet, Or what was left of it. The Elite's sword had cut the front of it clean off. He had missed death by inches." I assumed that any upstanding member of the military would put it back on if possible, as little protection was better than none at all. Adequate detail is typically required for players to get a gist of what's happening. Try that in the future.] Ashley took a step away from the team leader. He was a mess, emotionally, and as her knowledge of First Aid assessments kicked in, physical restraints were coming into play as well. How this wasn't noticed by anyone, Ty himself, was beyond her, but before he could say another word, the Lance Corporal pulled a can of biofoam from the IFAK on her thigh. "Jesus Christ," she swore to herself. She fitted the nozzle close to the wound, giving both punctures a half-second of foam spray each. "Take it easy. I'm sure there's a corpsman somewhere..." She was instilling false hope, but that was about all she could do for him. For a moment, she believed her own words, up until the point where the revelation came: they had come in one Pelican, and not once did she make note of any Medics of Corpsmen in their Area of Operations. Any other forces on board were probably decks between them. "You're gonna be fine," she said with some assurance as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

Once they were outside, Ashley pulled Ty out of sight and cornered him against the bulkhead, hard enough to clack the back of his head against the wall. "What the f***'s wrong with you?" she hissed.

Fuchs slacked his shoulders, giving Ashley that same stare again. She had had about enough of it, shooting a glance back at him, depolarizing her visor to let him know it. Finally, she loked back at Ty. "Sergeant, can I talk to you outside for a moment?"

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[sorry I'm lacking creativity] Ashley took point and people ended up on the bridge again. And stuff. [Just kidding, just kidding. Easy, Boss.] With the armory secure, Ashley and Fuchs finalized their equipment consolidation, so the next stop was the bridge. After observing Ty's behavior, both in combat and post, she assumed the role of pointwoman. Fuchs knew why, and as a result took it upon himself to cover the rear, keeping an eye on their lead. It wasn't long before they found the right track to the bridge, but even though it was secure they kept in check, watching every corner, every duct as though it were a universal bad-guy dispenser. Eventually, they found the bridge, and at that moment Ashley waved the team toward the doorway, stacking up on either side. She counted down with her fingers from three, then all at once, they moved in, splitting off in separate directions to cover the room at all angles. "Clear!" "Clear." "All clear, Sergeant. Whatever fight happened here, we missed it."

Ashley almost flinched at the silence-shattering yell from outside the armory. She recognized the voice however, and instead of bringing more attention to it than needed, she closed her eyes, shook her head and called back. "It's just us, Murphy. You can relax."

[@Church. The Master Chief nearly got killed by an Elite Minor in the books, and again by his first encounter with a Brute. So a Spartan II flooring eight ungodly strengthed Elites without taking a scratch is kinda...UNrealistic.] At Ty's staggered command, Ashley gauged Fuchs' reaction. It was about what she expected; doubting and still rather uneasy about his placement. "C'mon, you heard him: Consolidate your gear, grab some ammo while we're at it...and lets head back." Fuchs replied in little more than a grunt, but nonetheless he went to the racks and grabbed a few replacement magazines, as well as an M90 CAWS. Then, he turned back to Ashley with a subtle head-nod toward the racks. She knew what he was trying to say, and didn't even question his motive. The tight spaces had factored into a few more close encounters than necessary. Slinging her BR55, she grabbed an M7 from the racks and clicked in a fresh magazine. "Set," she reported.

[Yeah, I wanted to bring attention to Jacob's 8-elite massacre but it's none of my business what Spartans are capable of. And Boss, that was good I guess. Not bad.] Once she was convinced that Ty was okay--at least in a physical sense--Ashley glanced back at Fuchs. The Corporal shook his head this time, expressing a heavy feeling of doubt. Ashley couldn't blame him, as she wasn't entirely comfortable with the team's setup anymore herself. She wasn't even sure why she announced Ty's condition on comms as it didn't exactly help anyone. If anything it gave more reason for panic. The woman put a hand on Ty's shoulder. "You need to clear your head. If you don't think you can lead us then I will, got it?"

[boss, you can control my people's actions--just not dialogue--for the breach. I gotta get going for now.] Soto stacked up, putting her shoulder to the doorframe. Fuchs gave an assuring nod as he readied both flashbangs. "Ready."

With her back pressed against the wall, Soto glanced across the armory door to give Fuchs a quizzical glance. The man gave a subtle shake of the head: That was a joke, right? Ashley simply shrugged before looking back at Ty. "It's alright," she muttered, audible enough for her comm to transmit it to him for subtlety's sake. "If it's that much of a problem we can always call for an assist. Fuchs," she glanced back at th Corporal, "You got deterrence?" The Marine patted his vest and pulled out a set of flashbang grenades. "Don't leave base without 'em." "Nice. You'll spearhead once we breach. Deploy stun grenades then sweep right. I'll take left. Pick off the Grunts best you can but don't waste too much time on them. We need to combine fire on that Elite soonist if we don't want this to turn into a total goat f***." After giving a moment to let it sink in, she looked back at Ty. "Oorah, Sergeant?"

"Solid copy, lead," said Ashley. "Fuchs, on me." "Nah, I'll take point," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "You watch my back." Within two minutes, they had arrived at Ty's location. "What's the call, Sarge?" said Soto.

Fuchs and Soto watched as Ty vanished before them, seemingly hauling himself off to the bridge. About the time the first "What the f---" escaped Fuch's lips was when Bauer had warned them of multiple heat signatures. Sure enough, a swarm of Grunts came hobbling into the hangar bay. With Ashley already on a knee, she swept up her BR55 and cut loose with controlled bursts alongside Arnie. The first wave was made short work of seeing as the gas sucking midgets didn't expect two fully armed ODSTs to have the drop on them. About that time though an Elite came charging through past the bodies of his fallen subordinates, and the only reason Ashley knew it was an Sangheili was because her VISR mode was kind enough to place a dim outline around its massive, cloaked frame. Its sword arm was drawn back, winding back for a strike at Fuchs, who was oblivious to its presence until Soto hammered a burst into its side, flaring its shields. One started Corporal Fuchs managed to leap back in time, though breaking his firing stance in the process. His only option was to run now as Ashley chased the fading, energy washed silhouette. Finally its shields popped, and her last three rounds harmlessly sparked against its armor. The Elite turned about slowly to face her, its cloak flickering and fading until its twisted scowl was clear as day. "Oh ****..." she muttered. Just as she tried to fumble out a magazine, the Elite was almost on top of her, winding its sword arm back again as it spat some likely heinous remark in its alien tongue. Suddenly a full second of rumbling fire filled the hangar bay and the split-lip arched its back. A series of purple geysers burst from its chest before it fell face down on the deck in a pool of its own blood. Behind it, standing roughly ten feet away, was Fuchs, smoke still billowing from his rifle as he safetied it in a barrel-down position. "Wort wort wort, mother f***er."